Forgetting to Remember
by IndigoSkies
Summary: Not an angsty Susanfic about how she was redeemed after the Last Battle, but my take on why she might have forgotten or ignored Narnia. Rated just in case.Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it. That means Susan, London, the train...
1. Prologue: A Thinner Sky

A/N: This takes place right after Prince Caspian, when the Pevensies are finally on the train to their school. The italics are when things are being written (i.e. Susan writing in her journal, a letter sent or received, etc.) But I'm sure you would have figured that out. )

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_September 8, 1941_

_I am crying as I write this. Peter looks at me with concern, then smiles in understanding and turns back to Edmund and Lucy._

_We've been to Narnia—all four of us, once again. It was—oh, glorious! Something in the Narnian air just gets into you and—I can't describe it at all, but it sticks with you. A dreamy feeling, full of courage, and history, and dancing. And more._

_I could stay in Narnia forever. Even Peter, my big brother who understands everything, can't understand this. He can feel it, in his own way, but he can't understand my feeling for Narnia, for Caspian, dear Reepicheep, the trees, the mountains, the dukes and duchesses that are no more, the ponds and lakes and rivers and Aslan. _Aslan…

_I will never be able to forget the time he took me, and Peter out in the lovely green forest and told us, we are never able to come back to Narnia. _

"_It is time to grow close to your world," he said. _

_But I can't grow close to this world now that I've seen Narnia. All this seems so…_shallow.

_I was a Queen! The gentle, lovely, sought for Queen Susan of the Southern Sun. And now I am Susan Pevensie, a schoolgirl of fourteen, on a train to school. No longer a Queen._

_Soon this will all be just a fond memory from my childhood, something of long ago. The sooner I can come to terms with that the better. But the sky seems thinner here._


	2. Chapter 1: All of This has Gone Away

A/N: Thank you so much for reviewing, Petraverd. That just made my day! And I know it was kind of short…it looked longer on the paper! Perhaps Susan's hand gets tired quickly.

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Fall, 1941

I am looking out the window onto what is supposed to be a wonderful, natural setting. It pales in comparison the the Narnian woods, where we went hunting and riding, and to the plains: great open fields like the Fords of Beruna where we won the battle.

This is my school. Mine and Lucy's. I don't see as much of her as I ought; this is her first year. I keep thinking of Lucy as a self-assured, well-liked, valiant young lady back at Cair Paravel. We spent time together then, of course, but she didn't need me. I'm not really sure if she does now, either.

My roommate Violet has gone down to breakfast already. I will be late—ugh! Upon looking in the mirror I see my hair is a mess. I tie it back quickly with a dark green ribbon and go downstairs, trying not to think of attendants who wove vines through my hair some days, and pure spun gold on others. Green always suited me best, though.

In the dining room all the curtains are drawn, and all heads are bowed. Mrs. Finchley is saying grace. Surely I can make it to my chair on time and escape penalty for being late.

"Now, Lord, we thank you for your blessings…"

I am halfway there.

"…which have been given to us on this day…" in a droning voice.

I slip in too fast. The chair falls over.

"Amen."

All eyes are turned on me.

_Oh, Aslan, let me sink into the floor right now!_

Then I remember: Aslan sent me away. Why would he want to help me here, now? He only had time for that sort of thing when I was Queen Susan, or becoming Queen Susan.

I get up haughtily and eat my porridge. Suddenly guilt pours over me and it seems I can see Aslan's very face before me,_ looking_ at me, with such love and patience in his eyes.

The thought makes me gasp, which in turn makes me choke, and hastily I grab for a glass of water.

Most girls are laughing quite openly at me now. Embarrassed, I look up and down the table, and catch Lucy's glance. She smiles as if she knows my thoughts and feelings to the very letter.

_I should spend more time with Lucy,_ I think. All of a sudden I wonder if she has been feeling the very same way I have, about Narnia.

_But Lucy can come back! She can go back to Narnia! Apparently Narnia still needs their Valiant Queen but has no more use for the Gentle one._

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_September 24, 1942_

_Violet and I went for a walk after supper this evening, down the lane in back of the school that runs through their pathetic excuse for a forest. Normally I wouldn't be writing about such a mundane thing as a walk, but something happened on our walk that made me think long and hard._

_We were about to turn and come back when we saw a boy approaching us. Ever the social one, Violet insisted we stop and say hello. His name was James, and he goes to the boys' school. He's in Peter's class. _

_James seemed very taken with Violet: her dark blue eyes, and long, straight and silky blonde hair, but he never even noticed during our whole conversation (we stood there for over half an hour) that she had the sharpest tongue and was almost never saying anything about anyone else. Violet, Violet, Violet, the topic was tonight. And he didn't seem to care! _

_Funny. Mummy always told me that it was your character and speech that would attract people to you:_

"A gentle and quiet spirit."

_I suppose that's not always true. _


	3. Chapter 2: Leading into Summer

Late spring, 1942

I am leaning against a skinny tree with yellowish leaves that provides absolutely no shade from the sun—rare sun, for England. It's near to summer now, but still it's usually much colder than this, and rainy.

Lucy and I have been spending a little more time together—I help her with her schoolwork, and we talk about things. She doesn't really need me that much though. She's quite good at making friends—loyal friends who stick with her and don't run off walking in the woods with James Halifax every time you turn your back. Violet is such a scandal.

_But everyone likes her! _I don't exactly understand it, really. I try and try to be all that Mum and Dad ever taught me to be: polite, friendly, caring…but it seems different here. It actually mattered back in primary school, where nobody liked you if you didn't smile and share your lunch, but now…

I made the mistake a couple weeks ago of mentioning Narnia. Oh, curses upon my foolish head, but I had to say something to someone!

Linda Russell simply turned her head as if it were a great effort to look upon one as silly as I, and said, so condescendingly, "After all, Susan, we aren't back in the first form. These are the upper grades now. It's not as if we were children, trying to imagine ourselves away when we had to do a difficult arithmetic problem."

And Betsy Macauley turned up her perfect little nose, tossed her black hair over her shoulders, rolled her eyes, and giggled.

No one ever giggled at me when I was a Queen. _Ever. _Of course, I never did anything giggle-worthy when I was a Queen. Perhaps…perhaps that's why Aslan sent me away. Perhaps I've changed too much for Narnia.

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_May 22, 1942_

_Dear Susan,_

_This is going to have to be a rather short letter, but I have some news to tell you—I've passed the examinations! Soon there will just be my finals to take and I'm off to university! Of course, there will be some studying to do this summer, and applications to fill out, but Mr. Brandish thinks I'm as good as through. _

_I hope your year has gone well. I would have written to you more often, but I had such studying—you'll understand when it comes your turn next year._

_I don't mean to go on and on, but have you thought about Narnia much lately? It's been the only thing on my mind, really. I have a hard time thinking that I'll never go back. I mean, I understand what Aslan said, out in the forest, but it's still a hard reality to face. I hope you're bearing up alright under it._

_Edmund sends his love, and means to tell you he won the cricket match, and that he passed his geography for the first time. But he won't write you or Lucy a letter. He says he'd have nothing to say._

_Give Lucy a hug for me, and also the note enclosed here. It's for her._

_Love from your brother,_

_Peter._

_P.S. I'm so sorry I forgot to send you anything for your birthday. I really meant to but wasn't able to get out in time. –P._

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_May 31, 1942_

_School is out, and I'm heading back home with Violet's address. We're on the train again, and I'm staring out the window again at the rolling countryside. I must admit, it is beautiful. This world isn't as awful as I had first thought after coming back from Narnia. This summer I'll have to come to reality of this world—since, after all, that's where I'll be staying for who knows how long._

_Perhaps I can find some sort of work soon, or as Peter suggests, catch up on my studying. It seems so dull, though. I want some excitement in this summer. Excitement was never lacking in Narnia—no. I can't think about that any more. _

_Edmund wants me to spell check the story he's writing. I shall write more later, maybe. We'll see what happens when we pull in._

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The train pulls into the London station. I just love trains. Trains never fail—they always get you where you should go. It might take a while sometimes, but they get you there.


	4. Chapter 3: Bon Voyage

_June 5, 1942_

_I'm going to America! Mummy told me last night. Father was sent home from the war in April, and he has an appointment to be speaking in America. Everyone says he's so lucky to get this job, it's such an opportunity. He is, of course, taking Mother with him (she says she hasn't had a real holiday in years), and I'm to go as well! She said it would be such an experience: it would do me good._

_Peter is going to be studying for his exams at the Professor's new house. The old house where we had such adventures a few years ago…well, he lost it. I don't know what became of the wardrobe. He would love to have us all stay but there's no room where he lives now. I can't say I'm sorry—too many memories._

_Edmund and Lucy are going to be staying at our uncle and aunt's. They can have a splendid (or not so splendid) time with Eustace. Eustace is our cousin: the most horribly priggish boy I've ever met. __Worse than Edmund used to be before_

_Never mind._

_We're leaving in a few days—barely any time at all to pack! There's so much to be done. I'm glad. It will take my mind off Narnia where it still insists on staying. This trip to America is exactly what I need._

_-S_

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We're leaving tomorrow morning, early. Only Peter can come to see me off before he goes to the Professor's. Lucy and Edmund have already gone off to Harold and Alberta's. I must say I don't envy either of them.

With the excitement of preparing for this trip, it seems like the war is so far off: something that happened in the past, although it is still going on. Who knows how long it will last? Perhaps when I return I shall devote myself to the wounded soldiers. I might meet someone special _there._

I am sitting on my window seat looking out at the dark sky over London. The moon is covered by a cloud, and there are no stars. You can never see stars anyway here. The streetlamps down below lessen them.

Peter knocks on the door and comes in before I can tell him to.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

"About what?" I pretend ignorance, but I really know exactly what he means.

"Your trip."

"I have everything ready. You know that."

"Yes, I know that. And _you _know that's not at all what I meant."

Peter knows everything.

"I'm glad to go."

Peter smiles. "I can understand that. I almost envy you your opportunity. But I suppose mine has to come in a different way."

I wish, I wish I didn't know what Peter was getting at.

"I still think about Narnia," Peter says. "It gets harder and harder for me to concentrate sometimes on such simple things that I just feel like I could explode and start screaming and screaming; I'd never be able to stop."

Peter looks out the window. "The Narnian stars were brilliant." Then he turns to leave. He pauses at the door and looks back at me. "You'll have a grand time, I know."

For the first time, I am skeptical.

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I am waving my hat as the ship pulls out. Barely I can make out Peter on the crowded dock which we have just left. 

Finally, I can't bear to watch him standing there, and I turn to the other side of the ship. All I can see now is the ocean, spreading out before me.

_I used to have such a view from my bedroom window, in Cair Paravel._

I shake myself and lean over the railing, watching the tracks left in the water.

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A/N: I know that in the Voyage of the Dawn Treader, it states that the war was over—but chronologically, that is not accurate! So in my story the war hasn't ended yet. It didn't really end until 1945.


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